


Be Not Afraid

by Wolftraps (AlwaysBoth)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Backstory, Stilinski Family Feels, kid stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-01
Updated: 2013-03-01
Packaged: 2017-12-03 23:43:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/704003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlwaysBoth/pseuds/Wolftraps
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Monsters are only what you let them be, his mom told him. So look them straight on and tell them you're not afraid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Be Not Afraid

They moved into their new house when he was five, and he got a big kid bed. He was so excited and proud at first that he wouldn't even let Mommy leave the door cracked when she tucked him in at night. He was too big for that. (Though not for the night light. He cried so loud when it burned out one night that Daddy clutched him to his chest and said he gave him a heart attack, whatever that was.) It wasn't until Scott (Scott from kindergarten who couldn't say his name and called him "Stiles" instead) came over that anything changed.  
  
Scott liked Stiles' room and his transformers and his cartoons. Stiles liked Scott. Scott said it must be nice to have a room like Stiles' without a closet so he didn't have to worry about monsters hiding in there. Scott also liked to go under his big kid bed when they played hide and seek.  
  
A week later, after mommy tucked him in and kissed his head, checked the night light and shut the door, ('cause he was still a big kid; too big for that) the noises started. Scratches and skitters. Groans and grunts. Something was in his room. Something was under his bed. He wanted to go to Mommy and Daddy, but he knew if he got down the monster would grab him. The night light went out. So, he did what any big kid would. He screamed.  
  
Mommy was there in a flash, as she turned on the light and the monster hid away. She hugged him and listened to him talk about the monster. Then she got up, holding his hand to pull him along, and turned the light back off. The door was open still and the light from down the hall was just enough to see by as Mommy sat cross-legged on the floor, facing the space under the bed, and pulled him into her lap.  
  
Monsters, Mommy told him as she cuddled him to her chest, are only monsters because we're scared of them. And the scareder we are, the bigger and stronger the monster becomes. So the trick is to not let the monster have that power.  
  
"So I want you to look right at the monster and tell it you're not afraid of it."  
  
"But Mommy," he whispered so the monster wouldn't hear, tucking his face in her arm, "I _am_ afraid."  
  
"The monster won't know that if you don't let him see or hear that you're scared. He can't have that power if you don't let him. So come on, say it with me." He didn't really want to, he was still scared, but he faced forward, clutched Mommy's arm, and together they said it.  
  
"I'm not afraid of you."  
  
Every night after that, when the scratches started, he would say he wasn't afraid. And the next time the night light went out, he got up on his own and cracked the door and went back to sleep. (Because maybe sometimes he wasn't too big for that.)  
  
\-----------------------------  
  
  
Stiles was in third grade and on top of the world. King of the playground, for sure. Most of the older kids thought they were too cool for it, but he knew better. He was Batman and the playground was his Gotham. Scott was Robin. It sucked 'cause that was the year Scott's "az-ma" got pretty bad and he couldn't run much anymore, whereas Stiles ran _everywhere_.  
  
At recess one day, his Robin ran into trouble. Some fifth graders pushed him down and were laughing. When Stiles told them to leave him alone, the biggest boy pushed him too. That night he told Mom about the villains plaguing the streets of Gotham. They were big, he said, and took down Robin like it was nothing. Even Batman was no match.  
  
Mom pulled him into her lap on the couch (which he was definitely too old for) and cuddled him for a while.  
  
Villains, she said, are people becoming monsters. They push around others because that makes people scared of them, and the more scared people are the stronger and worse the villains become.  
  
"So if the villains find Batman tomorrow, I want him to look right at them and say he's not afraid."  
  
"But mom," he said. "What if he _is_ afraid?"  
  
"The villains won't know if he doesn't let them see."  
  
The next day he was ready to get back to Gotham, he hardly noticed that Mom stopped to talk to his teacher. Robin was already there waiting. At recess, the fifth grade villains came again, trying to take over _his_ playground... city... whatever.  
  
"I'm not afraid of you," he said. And the villains laughed and pushed him down and he ran away.  
  
The next day they pushed him down first. But he didn't run away. He couldn't get up, either, but he sat there on the ground and told them he wasn't afraid of them.  
  
"I'm not afraid of you," he said again the next week. And when they pushed him down, he stood back up. "I'm not. I'm not afraid of you."  
  
The villains weren't seen in Gotham again.  
  
\----------------------------

  
"I'm not afraid of you," he told the spider before he ran off to grab Dad to kill it.  
  
"I'm not afraid of you," he whispered after Mrs. Lentz, the worst teacher ever, yelled at him to sit down and shut his overactive, smart aleck mouth.  
  
"I'm not afraid of you," he said to the tv after he stayed up past bedtime to watch his first horror movie.  
  
He sat in the car for ten minutes, staring at the imposing building. His hands were warping the straps of his backpack from how tight they were gripped.  
  
"You're going to have to get out sometime, Stiles," Mom said.  
  
"I know," he responded. But he didn't move. He couldn't do this.  
  
Scott's parents had finally decided enough was enough and got a divorce. It sucked a lot, but Stiles was kind of glad about it. It always tore Scott up to see them fight. The worst part, though, was that Scott's dad had custody. And Stiles didn't usually like the man, but that dislike had quickly descended into loathing when he moved to a different city and took Scott with him. Middle school was one thing, but middle school without Scott?  
  
Mom reached over and grabbed his hand. She knew he was way too old for hugs. Mom was awesome like that.  
  
"It's not a monster, Stiles," she told him. "The people in there aren't villains. Not unless you make them." He rolled his eyes, because what twelve year old needs advice from their mom? Really. But he relaxed his grip and finally reached for the door handle.  
  
"I'm not afraid of you," he whispered, staring at the building, then got out of the car and started seventh grade.  
  
\-------------------------------------

  
Mom started getting sick at the end of that year. By the start of eighth grade she had a permanent bed at the hospital. Dad still had to work, to pay the bills and keep the villains off the streets, so Stiles went every day to keep her company. He did his homework there and talked to her about everything. About Lydia Martin and how smart and beautiful and totally oblivious to his love she was. About giving up baseball 'cause it just wasn't really his thing anymore. About the custody battle Scott's parents were having because his dad was a dick (sorry, Mom) and how they both hoped that meant Scott would be back in Beacon Hills by the time they started high school.  
  
Most of the time he was just talking to himself. Mom was almost always asleep those days.  
  
Sometimes being in that room would be too much and he'd wander the halls, poking into things he shouldn't, generally pestering the nurses. Mrs. McCall was probably the only reason he didn't get in more trouble than he did. She took him back to Mom's room one evening in early November, after catching him trying to sneak into the morgue, to find she was actually awake for once. Stiles didn't hesitate to wrap her in as gentle a bear hug as he could manage. How could he have ever thought he was too old for this? He would never be too old for this. He wanted to still do this when he was eighty and she was a hundred and two.  
  
"Stiles," she said softly, because she was weak these days and couldn't speak any way other than softly. "My brave boy." He shook his head, tears falling even though he tried to hold them back.  
  
"I'm not," he sobbed. "I'm not brave, Mommy. I'm scared. I'm so scared." And she shushed him and pulled him back into a hug and told him it was okay. It was okay to be scared. He was still her brave boy and it would be alright.  
  
But it wasn't. It wasn't alright at all. A week later, Mom died. Stiles was afraid, and the disease became a monster, and the monster killed his mom.  
  
\------------------------------

  
These days, Stiles deals with real monsters. Werewolves and lizard creatures and villains who beat and stab teenagers because they can. And he's afraid, all the time.  
  
But he looks at each one of them, straight on.  
  
"I'm not afraid of you," he says.

**Author's Note:**

> [On Tumblr](http://wolftraps.tumblr.com/post/59987897875/be-not-afraid)


End file.
